Birthday Trip
by DuMont
Summary: Clark gets a trip to London for his birthday, and meets up with some interesting people while he's there. HPSV Crossover. Chapter 5 is up! :)
1. Prologue

AN: Okay, I hope you guys like this one, it's my second fic, and it's a crossover. Enjoy!  
  
Impressed eyes watched from behind half-moon spectacles at the sight in the moonlit alley before him. The young, dark haired man was fighting off the group of muggers with incredible strength. There were seven men, all armed with an assortment of knives and guns. Against these men, the boy was posing a threat equal to a force ten times greater than each of his opponents.  
  
One man, wielding a large knife, rushed the boy. Much to the onlooker's surprise, the blade came in contact with the black-haired man's chest, and shattered. The boy shoved the shocked criminal into another robber, both of whom hit the brick wall and slumped to the ground, unconscious. The boy lashed out at another with a powerful kick, sending the man flying toward a large dumpster. Two out of the four remaining thugs charged at the young man, who merely put both hands out in front of him, palms toward the approaching men. As they neared, the boy, moving almost faster than the eye could see, grabbed the men's heads on opposite sides and slammed them together, knocking them out. The last two men were obviously scared, and both pulled out guns and pointed them at the boy. His eyes widened slightly, but there was no other reaction to the weapons he was being threatened with. The young man took a small step towards the men. They panicked and both started firing bullets at the boy. The watching eyes immediately shut, not wanting to have to face the bloody mess that would surely be left. However, he heard a cry of surprise and a large crash, and opened his eyes.  
  
The boy's shirt was in tatters, and he was breathing heavily. He looked down at his shirt and, upon seeing the shredded state it was in, proceeded to rip it off, revealing a smooth, muscular chest, with no signs of being hit by bullets. He turned to exit the alleyway and saw the man behind the glasses. He was strangely dressed, in some sort of robes, dark blue with crescent moons printed all over. He had long white hair, and a matching long white beard. He had a twinkle in his eyes, and the boy could see that the man was not scared, or very surprised. Just impressed. Albus Dumbledore smiled and walked towards Clark Kent. 


	2. Chapter 1

~Earlier that day~  
  
Clark was thrilled. For his sixteenth birthday Lex had given him a trip to England! True, Lex had a meeting with some foreign company that had been canceled at the last minute, so it was the extra ticket that went to Clark. But he was still extremely excited. He had never been out of Kansas before, let alone the entire United States. The fall break had just begun and Clark was on his way to London for a whole week. "Life is good," he thought.  
  
Clark stepped out of the London airport and was amazed. There was a cool, humid breeze blowing around him as he took in the sites. He saw tall buildings and small shops. The cars were on the left side of the road. All of the conversations had strong British accents. Clark boarded a double- decker bus heading to southern London, his destination, and climbed up to the top level.  
  
He rode for about half an hour before he came to his stop. Clark hopped off the bus and took in his surroundings. On his left he could see his hotel, generously paid for courtesy of Lex, towering more than twice the height of neighboring buildings. On his right, down a few blocks, he could see Kings Cross Station. Across the street, he could see a night club, which he assumed would be quite a happening place after dark, though it was empty now. Turning to the hotel, Clark headed for the giant front doors. He walked up to the front desk and the clerk greeted him with a friendly smile.  
  
"Good day, sir! How may I help you?" asked the young brunette.  
  
"Hi, a friend of mine made a reservation here for me," Clark began.  
  
"Okay, what is your friend's last name?" she asked.  
  
"Luthor."  
  
"Oh, you know Mr. Luthor! Wonderful," she flagged down a bellboy. "This man will show you to your room, Mister-"  
  
"Kent."  
  
"Mr. Kent. Enjoy your stay, sir!"  
  
Clark followed the man into a fancy elevator, and they rode up to the seventh floor. Stepping out of the elevator, Clark found himself in an elaborate hallway, decked with paintings, two evenly spaced glass tables holding large vases of flowers. He only saw three doors on each side of the long hallway, and the man showed him to the last door on the right. Clark's eyes nearly fell out of his head when he saw that the golden letters on the door read, "703 - Presidential Suite."  
  
Clark stepped inside and stopped in his tracks. The bellboy said someone would be right up with his luggage, but Clark barely heard him. The suite was huge; just the bathroom was the size of his living room at home. There was a jacuzzi tub, and a large shower as well. Across from the door, the window covered the wall of a raised platform, about five feet above the rest of the room, making an indoor balcony. There was a large television set in the far corner of the room, with an overstuffed chair and a couch facing it. The bed was nearly as big as his own bedroom, and looked like it would be very comfortable. Next to the door, there was a full-sized refrigerator, not a miniature one that you normally find in hotels.  
  
Clark walked up onto the balcony and looked out the window. He could see tall office buildings, churches, and other smaller buildings in the distance that he assumed to be shops and restaurants. He could see the train station, and the little night club across the street.  
  
There was a knock on his door, and Clark went to answer it. Outside he found another bellboy with his two small suitcases. He thanked him and paid the tip, and carried his luggage over to the large dresser. Knowing that nobody would see him, he used his super speed to unpack his clothes and other items. Once he was settled in, Clark decided to take a nap, as he was tired from the time zone change. He slipped off his pants and shoes and headed over to the huge bed in boxers and a T-shirt. Pulling back the top comforter, he found that there was another blanket underneath. He pulled that back too, and had the same problem. He pulled yet another back and found the top sheet. He pulled that back, and noticed that he held almost six inches of covers in his other hand. Sighing, he grabbed the two top blankets and gave them a hard yank, pulling them both out and leaving him with one blanket and one top sheet. Satisfied, he climbed into the bed, pulled the covers up around him and shut his eyes.  
  
The telephone's loud ring woke Clark up, and it took him a second to figure out where he was. Then he noticed that the phone was ringing on the night stand next to his bed. Reaching over to it, he picked up the receiver and answered with a groggy, "Hello?"  
  
"Good evening, Sir. It is seven o'clock, supper is about to be served in the man dining room," the voice on the other end asked.  
  
"Um..." Clark was still tired, but thought he would rather go out and see if he could find a local restaurant for dinner. "No thank you, I'm gonna go out for din - I mean supper tonight," Clark said.  
  
"Very well, dial 3 for room service or if you need anything," the voice said, and hung up.  
  
Clark set the phone back on its cradle and threw the covers off. He sat up and ran a hand through his hair. He got up and decided to take a shower before going out on the town. Grabbing a maroon embroidered towel from the rack, he made for the bathroom.  
  
Shutting off the water, Clark stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. He walked over to the large dresser and pulled out a somewhat nice pair of blue jeans, and a red button up shirt. He pulled those on, and went to put on his shoes. Glancing at the clock, he saw that it was nearly eight O'clock, and it was dark outside. He looked down out of the window and saw a large crowd of people outside of the little club. He figured he would go there and see what he could find to do.  
  
After waiting in line for fifteen minutes, Clark finally made it up to the door. He guessed the bouncer just thought he looked older, because he waved Clark through. Still surprised that he was allowed in, he walked through the big double doors.  
  
Immediately, loud, booming dance music hit Clark's ears, and flashing strobe lights and colorful disco lights danced before him. He could see that the large dance floor was packed with couples, and the bar along the right-hand wall held people drinking beer and other alcoholic beverages. Thinking that this was definitely not what he had in mind, he turned around, only to find himself face to face with a woman in a ridiculously low-cut red dress. She was wearing a lot of makeup and her blonde hair was streaked with dark red highlights.  
  
"Hello, tall, dark, and handsome," the woman said seductively with her English accent.  
  
"Um - I - I can't - I mean, I have to go," Clark stuttered, trying to make his way past her.  
  
"Oh come on, lets have a bit of fun, shall we?" Clark is still trying to escape. "But I can see that you're not happy with this place, so lets go somewhere else," she said, and starting dragging him to a side door. They exited into an alley, the woman still dragging Clark. Suddenly several dark- clad figures emerged from the shadows. The woman gasped in fear, and Clark managed to edge his way around the approaching men to the opening of the alley. He ushered the lady out of the dark passage, and told her to run. Turning back to the men, the fight began. He fought off the men with ease, even when the last two threatened him with large guns. However, he did not notice the man that had been watching him. He finished the last of them off and looked down at his shirt. He saw that it had been torn in many places by the bullets, and proceeded to rip it off. He turned toward the opening of the alleyway, intending to sneak in the back door of the hotel and get a new shirt, when he saw the old man, who began walking towards Clark with a friendly, knowing smile. 


	3. Chapter 2

Clark was terrified. Even with the smile on the old man's face, Clark did not want to have anything to do with him. "He saw me," he thought. "That man saw the whole fight! What am I supposed to tell him?!"  
  
Without realizing it, Clark had backed himself up until he reached the brick wall of the building, and the man was still advancing on Clark. Then he spoke.  
  
"Dear boy, you needn't be afraid," he said with a strange calm and comfort in his voice. Clark found himself relaxing slightly, but he still kept his guard up. The man chuckled. "I don't know what spells you used to help you out there, young man, but I must say that I am quite impressed!"  
  
Clark stopped moving. "SPELLS????" he thought. "Great. Just great. Some whacko just saw me fight off those muggers, and get shot! What on Earth - or should I say Krypton - am I supposed to do?"  
  
Another soft laugh. "It's okay, I have used magic to help me out with muggles on occasion as well," he said.  
  
Clark was thoroughly confused. "Magic?? Muggles??" he wondered to himself. Deciding he should play along, he said, "Yeah, I know what you mean."  
  
Just then the man stuck his hand out towards Clark. "Oh, how rude of me! My name is Albus Dumbledore."  
  
Clark took his hand slowly. "Clark Kent."  
  
"You're not from London, are you, Clark?" Dumbledore asked.  
  
Smiling slightly, he said, "No, I live in the U.S., in Kansas."  
  
"Hmm, interesting place for a young wizard, I must say!"  
  
"Um.... yeah...." Clark was starting to get freaked out with this man's talk of magic and wizards, but, being Clark, he was also extremely curious as to whether the man was mentally stable or not. He knew that magic couldn't exist, could it? Then he reminded himself that he was an alien, after all!  
  
"Why don't you come back to the school for the night, I'm sure the professors would love to meet you! But first," he said, noticing Clark's bare chest, "You should run back to your hotel and fetch a new shirt."  
  
Clark nodded slowly, and started to walk past the man. As he rounded the corner, he jumped into Clark time and was through the hotel's backdoor and up to his room in less than three seconds. Shutting the door behind him, he walked to the bed and sat down. "What am I supposed to do? I know that it probably would be best to try and forget about this, I mean what is that old guy going to do? I shouldn't go back," he said firmly to himself. He sat there for another minute, staring at the floor. With a groan he stood up, went to the dresser and grabbed a new shirt. "When are you ever gonna learn, Clark?" he asked himself and headed out the door.  
  
Dumbledore stood in the same alley, waiting for the mystery boy to come back. He knew Clark would return, he noticed how intrigued the boy had been. He continued to think to himself when Clark rounded the corner. Smiling, Dumbldore was approached by Clark.  
  
"Ready?" asked the wizard.  
  
"Um, yeah..."  
  
"Good! Let's see here...." Clark watched in confusion as the man looked around on the ground, his eyes settling on and old beer can. Reaching down, he picked it up. Seeing Clark eying him strangely, he explained, "Portkey. We can use it to reach Hogwarts, because, as I'm sure you know, it is not possible to apparate there."  
  
Then, surprising Clark even more, the man pulled a thin wooden stick with an elaborately carved handle out of his robe pocket. As he watched, Dumbledore tapped the can and muttered something under his breath.  
  
"Okay, all set." Dumbledore held the can out to Clark, motioning for him to place his hand on it. Clark slowly reached out to touch it. As soon as his skin made contact, Clark felt as though he had been shoved off his feet and was spinning through the air. Giving Dumbledore a wide-eyed glance, to which the man smiled, he noticed that everything around him had become a blur. It reminded him of when he was speeding at his absolute fastest, only he could tell that his feet were not on the ground. Suddenly, and with a resounding THUD, Clark's feet hit stone. Not being one to get knocked over easily, he remained standing, but was wobbling badly.  
  
Clark took in his surroundings. He was in some sort of castle, with a very high ceiling that looked as if it opened into the night sky. He could see the stars and the moon, and a few small wisps of clouds.  
  
Dumbledore followed Clark's gaze, and said, "The ceiling is enchanted to look like the sky outside. Beautiful, isn't it?"  
  
Clark barely heard him, he was too busy staring at the stars. He was snapped out of his trance by the large doors to the great hall opening.  
  
"Professor?" asked a female voice. An older lady peeked her head around the door. She was not very tall, but she had stern, sharp features that told Clark she had much authority. She turned her gaze to Clark, looking him up and down once. "I see we've got a visitor. I'm Minerva McGonagal, pleasure to meet you."  
  
"Clark....I'm Clark Kent."  
  
She smiled and turned to Dumbledore. "So where did you meet Mr. Kent?"  
  
Clark hoped he wasn't going to tell her what he did, he really didn't need another person to know about him right now.  
  
"I noticed him fending off a few robbers in an alley, and thought I'd commend him for his work. He clearly knows a lot about magic, he didn't even use his wand!" Dumbledore explained.  
  
McGonagal smiled, "Quite the wizard, eh? I'm impressed, you look so young!"  
  
Clark smiled uneasily.  
  
Assuming Clark was being so quiet because he was tired, Dumbledore offered him a room. Clark accepted, and followed Dumbledore and McGonagal through a maze of corridors until they stopped in front of a picture of a fat lady.  
  
Turning to Clark, Dumbledore said, "I'll have you stay in the Gryffindor House tonight, Professor McGonagal is the head of the house."  
  
Clark nodded. Just then, the lady in the picture, who previously had her eyes shut, started moving! She looked at Dumbledore, and asked, "Password?"  
  
"Serande Montetus."  
  
The picture swung open, revealing a small doorway to a large round room with a fireplace and big comfy chairs. Stepping into the room, Clark could see two staircases, spiraling up in opposite directions. Because it was so late, the room was empty.  
  
"All the students are in bed upstairs. I think that there is an extra bed in one of the boys dormitories, I'll take you up," said Dumbledore.  
  
Clark followed him up the left staircase. They reached the top and Clark saw several closed doors in the small hallway they were in. Dumbledore led him the the last door on the left and opened it slowly. Though it was dark in the room, Clark could see perfectly. He saw that there were five beds in the room, four of which had boys sleeping in them. On the walls by the head of the beds were posters of different things, most of which, to Clark's surprise, were of something called Quidditch, and showed one or more people flying around on broomsticks. The strangest thing was that the people really were flying around, as if the poster was alive. At the foot of hte beds were large trunks, all of which were closed, but they all had robes draped over them. Dumbledore motioned to the empty bed and said he would come back early in the morning so the other boys wouldn't be confused about the stranger. Clark nodded and Dumbledore walked out of the room, shutting it behind him. Clark walked silently over to the bed and climbed under the covers. He was soon fast asleep.  
  
Clark woke with a start as he heard several boy's voices yelling loudly. 


	4. Chapter 3

AN: Okay, since I forgot to say anything on my other chapters I'll talk now. I am SOOOOOOOOOO sorry for not updating, so I put up like 3 parts kay? Well you already read them if you're reading this.... nvm. Well anyway, thanks to C.K.7980, LunnaLoveGoddess, and Aion, for the reviews!!!!! I will update again soon, okay? Enjoy!!! **************************************  
  
"YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!"  
  
Clark woke, his eyes still shut, as he heard a loud yell. Soon after the first, there came more yelling, and he finally opened his eyes. The first thing he saw seemed somewhat unusual. It wasn't the unfamiliar surroundings, or the four other boys staring at him. It was the ceiling. "Wasn't that..... farther away last night?" he asked himself, and then it dawned on him. "Ah, crap."  
  
Clark fell and hit the bed with a loud "CRACK" as the bed legs snapped under his sudden weight. Sitting up and rubbing the back of his head in annoyance, he suddenly remembered the yelling that had awakened him. Looking around, it took him a while to register the strange room. Then he recalled the previous night's events and only then did he finally take notice of the four boys against the far wall. One of them, who had toussled black hair and glasses, was standing slightly in front of the rest of the group bearing what Clark assumed to be a wand. "Wand," he thought. "Still sounds strange."  
  
Before anyone had a chance to say anything, the door to the large bedroom opened and Dumbledore walked in. He looked at Clark, then at the boys, then back again. He walked over to Harry who was still pointing his wand at Clark.  
  
"Harry, there's no need for that," Dumbledore said, gesturing to his wand. Reluctantly, Harry pocketed the wand, but still watched Clark.  
  
"Who is that?" Hary asked Dumbledore.  
  
"This is Clark Kent." He gestured for Clark to come over. Climbing out of the bed which was now on the ground, he walked slowly to them.  
  
Clark mustered a small smile and stuck out his had to Harry. "Hi."  
  
Harry looked at his hand for a minute before taking it and saying, "Harry. Harry Potter."  
  
Dumbledore smiled, and said, "There. Now Clark, this is Seamus."  
  
"Hello." Seamus said, with an Irish accent.  
  
"Dean." Dumbledore pointed to another boy.  
  
"Hi."  
  
"And this is--"  
  
"Ron Weasley!" The red-haired boy stepped up and held out his hand to Clark with a friendly smile. Clark smiled and shook his hand.  
  
"I met Clark last night. He will, hopefully, be staying for a little while?" Dumbledore turned his words into a question for Clark.  
  
"I, um.... Well I still.... My stuff is all at my hotel, I'd uh, I'd have to get it..." Clark mumbled.  
  
"I can help with that. What room are you checked into?" asked Dumbledore.  
  
"703." Clark reached into his pocket and pulled out the key. "Um, you might need this..."  
  
DUmbledore chuckled. "No, I just needed to know the location." Dumbledore pulled out his wand and again he muttered something quietly, and waved the tip of the wand in a little circle. Suddenly there was a CRACK, and Clark's suitcases had appeared in front of him. They were even packed with his clothes again!  
  
Clark just stared. Finally, he regained enough use of his brain to remember he was supposed to know about all of this magic stuff. Closing his gaping jaw, he turn to Dumbledore and smiled.  
  
"Thanks!" he said.  
  
"That's no problem. I'll leave you to get to know each other. Breakfast is in thirty minutes. Clark, after we eat, I think you'd like to meet some of the other teachers," Dumbledore said, and left the room.  
  
There was an uneasy silence, until Harry spoke up.  
  
"So, Clark, um, could you.... er, you were floating this morning."  
  
Clark's eyes widened and he looked at Harry.  
  
"I....." 


	5. Chapter 4

Clark was stuck. He didn't know enough about this whole magic thing to blame his floating on it. He assumed all four boys had seen him, so he couldn't deny the occurence. Clark almost laughed at the thought of some of his past lame excuses given to his friends after they saw something strange. He didn't want to have to tell any of the people at this castle who, or rather what, he really was. Though he figured they would discover his lack of wizard-ness after a while. He would have a hard time explaining that.  
  
That was when he thought of his excuse. He'd just tell them about his powers. That he could do certain things other people couldn't. Of course, he would have to leave out the part about him being an alien. Brilliant!  
  
This whole debate in Clark's head took only a millisecond, and he looked back at Harry and explained.  
  
**************  
  
"So... You have increased strength, speed, and hearing. And, heat comes out of your eyes and you can see through things. And, you are pretty much invincible, AND, you float. Right?"  
  
"Er... Yeah...  
  
During the conversation between Clark and Harry, the excitement on Ron's face had grown more and more everytime a new power was mentioned. Speaking up, Ron said to no one in particular, "Wicked!!" Then to Clark, "How strong are you?!" he asked with a grin.  
  
"Umm... I... I don't know," Clark answered.  
  
"Oh." Ron was quiet for a minute, then his face lit up full blast again. "Let's test it!!!" Ron was practically jumping up and down.  
  
Clark chuckled nervously, "I... um, I'm not sure that's a good idea, someone could get hurt...."  
  
"Oh come on!! How strong could you be??" Ron complained.  
  
Clark opened his mouth to answer, but was stopped by Dean saying, "Ron, give him a break, why don't you?"  
  
"Sorry. It's just so cool!!"  
  
This time Harry started to say something but was cut off by Ron. "Oh!! We need to meet --" he turned to Clark, "You need to meet Hermione! She's gonna think this is awesome!!"  
  
Before Clark could protest, the door opened and a girl with long brown bushy hair peeked in. "Harry? Ron? Where have you been? I waited for you in the Great Hall...." She saw that they had a guest. "Hello!" she said, walking up to Clark and holding out her hand.  
  
"Hi."  
  
"I'm Hermione Granger. And you are?"  
  
"Um... Clark Kent."  
  
"Pleasure to meet you."  
  
"You too..." Clark thought Hermione was very good looking, despite the scary hair. He wondered how old these guys were... But he was supposed to be 21!!  
  
Just then, Ron said, "Hermione, guess what Clark did this morning!"  
  
Before he could talk about the floating, Clark reached out faster than any of them could see and kicked Ron lightly in the shin, causing him to yelp. Giving him and apologetic glance, Clark turned to Hermione and said, "Yeah it was pretty funny, when these guys saw me in here, I scared them and got threatened by Harry because they didn't know who I was!!" Clark chuckled.  
  
Hermione just laughed along with him, thinking it must be a guy thing. "Well since you're all in your pajamas still, get dressed and I'll meet you in the commons." She walked out, shutting the door behind her.  
  
Ron glared at Clark and said, "Hey! What was that for!! That hurt!!"  
  
"I'm sorry, but could you guys not go and tell people about this? I'd prefer to keep it.... private..."  
  
Ron looked disappointed. "But why?? It's not like you're the only one who can do strange things! I mean Professor McGonagal can turn herself onto a cat!"  
  
Clark's eyes widened. "She can?!?!?!?"  
  
Ron gave him a strange look. "She's an animagus..."  
  
Clark pretended to know that. "Yeah, I know what an animagus is, I just um, I didn't know she was one."  
  
Ron was still looking at hiim strangly, but let it go.  
  
"Come on guys, lets go get some breakfast," suggested Seamus. Agreeing, all the boys left the room. 


	6. Chapter 5

After breakfast, Harry, Ron, and the other boys had classes to go to. Clark had spoken to Dumbledore, and as result of the conversation, was now following Harry to potions class.  
  
"You won't like Snape, I can guarantee that!" said Ron. "He's the worst teacher! Though Trelawney the divination teacher, she's a little weird. But you shouldn't have too bad of a time since you're not really a student. You'll probably get the evil eye though, Snape only likes students that are in Slytherin."  
  
Clark just nodded and half-smiled, having no idea who or what Slytherin or divination was. They walked through all sorts of corridors, until it became apparent that they were in the dungeon. Harry and Ron stopped in front of a large wooden door that was open. Clark walked into the musty room lit by torches on the walls.  
  
Looking around him, Clark saw the long wooden tables set in rows, where seven or eight students were seated on each. On the tables, one for every two students, was a cauldron. Clark was immediately reminded of old halloween movies he'd seen as a child. The gren faced wicked old witches were always mixing some sort of potion in their big cauldrons.  
  
He followed Harry and Ron over to a table near the back where Hermione was already seated.  
  
"Hi, guys," she said as they approached.  
  
"Hey, Hermione," greeted Ron.  
  
Harry and Ron sat on one side of Hermione, and Clark took the chair on the opposite side.  
  
Hermione examined Clark, and, scanning his attire, she asked, "Is that flannel you're wearing? What about your robes?"  
  
Clark squirmed uncomfortably. "Well I didn't really, um... I wasn't exactly planning on coming here..."  
  
"You weren't? But what about going to Diagon Alley or the Leaky Cauldron for a drink? That's where all the witches and wizards go when they visit London," she explained.  
  
Clark stuttered, "W-well, I just, I wasn't really.... I-I was there before, and I didn't really..."  
  
Before Hermione had a chance to press the issue further, a tall man wearing a billowing black robing strode into the room and the class fell silent. He had greasy black hair and a long pointed nose. He stopped at the front of the room and surveyed the students, stopping at Harry to frown even more.  
  
He stopped again on Clark and said, "You must be the Clark Kent Dumbledore spoke of."  
  
Clark nodded, seeing that the man was trying to be intimidating, and doing a good job of it. Clark, however, was not bothered. He held a steady gaze matching Snape's and said, "That's me."  
  
Snape looked away and began class. Clark saw how he put down Harry for every word that came out of his mouth. Clark didn't understand why Snape despised the boy so much. Snape gave Harry the most difficult questions and scolded him for not knowing the answer. Clark eventually had enough and quietly reached down into Harry's bookbag and pulled out the potions textbook, staring through the cover, he combined his X-ray vision and superspeed to read through the entire contents of the book in mere seconds, committing every word to memory. The next time that Snape chose Harry to answer a particularly tough question, Clark spoke up.  
  
"Why don't you stop giving him the hardest questions?"  
  
"Mr. Kent! Do not talk back to me. Perhaps you would like to tell me what you need the most of for an animal transformation potion?"  
  
"You'd need Wolfsbane, but in addition to that, you would need an equal amount of Hirasmine, which, in turn, binds itself with the Wolfsbane, creating the solution that makes up more than half of the potion."  
  
Snape glared at Clark before moving along with the lesson.  
  
When the class was nearly over and the potions were finished, the students were told to place a vial of their mixtures on his desk for grading. Each of the students followed the instructions and returned to their places to gather their things.  
  
"Class is dismissed, I will see you all tomorrow. Mr. Kent, I'd like a word with you," Snape growled.  
  
Clark tolld Harry and Ron to wait for him outside and he would be right out. striding up to Snape at the front of the room, he said, "Yes?"  
  
"Mr. Kent, I am aware that you are not a student at this school, therefore you are not under my jurisdiction. However, I highly suggest that you watch your attitude towards the staff members here."  
  
Clark scoffed, "Then let me suggest to you, Professor Snape, to watch your own attitude towards the students!"  
  
Snape looked ready to tackle Clark. He nearly shouted, "Mr. Kent, I am sure that it would cause a great deal of embarassment on your part if I was to report your behavior to the headmaster."  
  
Clark was growing angry. "I have good reason to be upset with you, the way you treat Harry!"  
  
"What goes on between Mr. Potter and myself is absolutely none of your concern!!"  
  
Clark could not believe what he was hearing, He didn't understand why this man could be so cruel to Harry. He glared at Snape, just barely keeping his heat vision from erupting. Unbeknownst to himself, as Clark glared at Snape his eyes glew a fiery red with his anger. Snape's eyes showed surprise as Clark turned and whisked out of the classroom to join his friends. Snape stared after the boy, wondering just what he really was. 


	7. Chapter 6

After Harry, Ron, and Hermione had finished their classes, Harry had Quidditch practice. Clark had to try hard to act like he knew what Quidditch was. He figured it was some sort of sport. He asked if he could go to practice with Harry, to watch the team. Harry agreed, of course, and started talking about the scores from the last big match. Clark just smiled and nodded his head.  
  
When they reached the stadium, the rest of the team was already there. Clark found it odd that they were all carrying brooms around with them as they set up. Harry had gone to change his clothes and returned, also carrying a large broom, though it seemed much more elaborate than the rest.  
  
An older boy heaved a large chest out of the small store room one one of the stadiums large pillars. He set it down in the middle of the group and opened it. Clark saw two large brown balls that were moving on their own. They were strapped in securely. There was another red ball in the case. The team captain opened a small picture of the Hogwarts crest and popped out a small golden ball, only the size of his palm. He held it up, and little wings unfolded from the sides and the ball took off, soon out of sight. Next, two small bats were produced, and two red haired boys, whom Harry had pointed out as Ron's older twin brothers Fred and George, each took one. Then the captain pressed the release on one of the moving balls and it flew up into the air, zipping around above their heads. The second was released, and the red ball was picked up. All the players straddled their brooms, and pushed right up off the ground. The red ball was tossed back and forth a few times, all while they flew through the air on broomsticks. Clark had to try hard not to crack up, seeing yet another very traditional "old green witch horror movie" activity.  
  
Clark scanned the sky looking for Harry, and found him zooming around after the small golden ball. He followed it back and forth, up and down, and into a steep dive, where he finally grabbed it, pulling back straight just in time. Harry flew over to Clark and grinned, Clark returned the smile.  
  
"Have you ever played Quidditch before, Clark?" Harry asked.  
  
"No, I.... no," Clark told him. "You looked like you've got some good experience though. That was a great dive back there," Clark grinned.  
  
"I've got a good broom though, it helps a lot," said Harry.  
  
"Yeah, it looks really cool!" Clark told him.  
  
"Do you want to try it out? It's a Firebolt, the best there is," Harry said, full of pride. Seeing that Clark was about to reject, he urged him to say yes. "Oh come on, Clark! You'll love it!"  
  
Clark told him he was afraid of heights.  
  
Harry quieted down and said, "You're afraid of heights? You pretty much flew the other morning!"  
  
"Well I wasn't really flying, it was more of a hover, actually....."  
  
Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Pretty neat though. And a bit strange..."  
  
"Go play Quidditch, Harry."  
  
Harry grinned and said, "Suit yourself then," before kicking off again and releasing the little ball. 


End file.
